No You, No Me

The year Todd cheated on me with my best friend.

He endlessly bombarded me with photos of them in bed, trying to force me to admit that I had slept with my male colleague, Oliver, in a hotel room.

When he sent the hundredth video, it was right before the holiday weekend.

He didn't even bother looking at the camera.

"Mrs. Waldorf, I guess your boring little coworker didn't satisfy you, huh?"

My supposed best friend, Chloe, leaned into his chest. "Todd, how long do you think Phoebe can keep up this tough act?"

Todd proposed a bet. "I bet she won't even last until the holiday. She will get dumped, and then she will come crawling back, begging for my forgiveness."

"Phoebe, if you refuse to lower your head, you can just wear this green hat forever."

The truth was, during a business trip, I got completely drunk at a networking dinner, and Oliver was just responsible for safely escorting me back to the hotel.

But Todd, who had secretly bought a ticket to surprise me for my birthday, saw us and completely convinced himself we were having an affair.

On the day of the holiday, Todd ran into Oliver on the street. He had his arm wrapped tightly around Chloe.

Thinking he had already won his bet, Todd immediately let out a mocking laugh.

"Where is Phoebe? Did you already dump that pathetic bitch?"

Oliver threw a violent punch, catching Todd squarely in the jaw.

"Todd, do you have a single shred of humanity left in you?! Phoebe has been dead for a month!"

"Oliver, are you seriously making up a story about her being dead just to cover for her?"

Todd turned his head and wiped a smear of blood from the corner of his mouth.

Passersby on the sidewalk turned to stare.

Oliver was shaking violently with rage. He grabbed Todd by the collar of his custom shirt.

"Todd, are you even human?! Her ashes are already cold!"

"When she died, she was alone in a hospital bed, in so much agonizing pain that she literally bit her own lips to shreds!"

"And what the hell are you doing?! You are out here buying designer bags with this whore!"

Todd let out a cold, dismissive sneer.

"You put on a pretty good show."

"How much money did Phoebe pay you to put on this psychotic act in public?"

He casually took off his tailored suit jacket and draped it over Chloe, who was pretending to shiver next to him.

"Todd, please don't be mad at Oliver."

Chloe seized the opportunity to lean deeper into his embrace, her eyes turning slightly red.

"Phoebe just wants to make you jealous. She loves you so much, how could she possibly die?"

Todd wrapped his arm firmly around her waist.

"Alright, that is enough. Go back and tell Phoebe this whole 'playing hard to get' routine is pathetic."

"Faking her own death to force me to apologize? Tell her to keep dreaming."

He didn't spare Oliver another glance. He just turned and walked toward his Maybach parked on the curb.

I hovered in the air, silently watching this exact scene play out.

The agonizing, tearing pain of terminal stomach cancer seemed to still linger in the depths of my soul.

But watching Todd completely convinced that I was just throwing a tantrum, I didn't feel a single ripple of emotion.

A month ago, I drew my last breath on a freezing operating table.

At that moment, I genuinely believed death would be the ultimate release.

But I never expected my soul to be trapped beside Todd.

I was forced to watch him continue dragging my dignity through the mud.

Inside the quiet cabin of the Maybach, Todd leaned back against the leather seat and closed his eyes to rest.

The neon city lights blurred past the windows.

"Todd, do you think Phoebe took the joke a bit too far this time?"

Chloe probed carefully, tracing circles on his chest with her manicured finger.

"Having someone tell you she is dead is such bad luck. What if something actually happened to her?"

"What could possibly happen to her?"

Todd didn't even open his eyes.

"She is a useless parasite who can't survive a single day without me. What else is she capable of besides using these cheap stunts to get attention?"

"I bet you right now, before midnight tonight, she will come crawling back to the villa and drop to her knees to apologize."

I let out a bitter, self-deprecating laugh.

He was right. The old me loved Todd so much that I completely lost my own identity.

Just because he once said "I will take care of you," I willingly gave up my career to become a full-time housewife.

Even when he subjected me to months of cold, psychological torture, I only responded with pathetic attempts to please him.

Even on the exact day I was diagnosed with terminal stomach cancer, I was so excited to rush home and cook him a special dinner.

Only to open the bedroom door and find him rolling around on our marital bed with Chloe.

The Maybach pulled into the driveway of our hillside mansion.

Todd pushed the front door open, and his eyes immediately landed on the entryway console table.

A blue package was sitting right there.

It was something I begged a nurse to mail for me right before I died.

Inside was a scarf I had knitted, stitch by agonizing stitch, while enduring the absolute hell of chemotherapy.

And a farewell letter.

Todd's brow instantly furrowed in annoyance.

"What is this?"

Chloe quickly stepped ahead of him, read the sender's name, and a malicious glint flashed in her eyes.

"Todd, it is a package from Phoebe."

The image of Oliver walking me back to that hotel room flashed in Todd's mind.

"Throw it out. Do not let it dirty my floors."

He turned and headed straight up the stairs toward the master bathroom. The sound of running water echoed a minute later.

Chloe stared at the package, her eyes burning with toxic jealousy.

She found a pair of scissors and sliced through the packing tape.

A thick blue scarf tumbled out, and tucked inside the folds was a plain white envelope.

Chloe pulled the letter out.

I floated right behind her, watching as her eyes scanned the suicide note I left behind.

The letter read:

[Todd, by the time you read this, I will no longer be in this world.]

[Do you remember our first anniversary? You clung to me like a little kid, begging me to personally knit you a blue scarf.]

[I was so clumsy. I knitted and unraveled it a hundred times. By the time I was diagnosed with cancer, I forced myself through the agonizing pain of chemo just to finally finish it.]

[The scarf is finished. It is just a shame we don't love each other anymore.]

Chloe's hand trembled. She aggressively crumpled the letter into a tight ball and shoved it deep into her own pocket.

The bathroom door opened. Todd walked out drying his hair with a towel, and his eyes immediately fell on the blue scarf.

He froze for a second.

I saw a brief, fleeting moment of nostalgia pass through his eyes.

On our first anniversary, he had held me tight in the snow, pouting.

"Phoebe, all the other guys have scarves knitted by their girlfriends. I want one too."

Back then, his eyes were filled with nothing but me.

But now, he looked at that scarf with absolute, undisguised disgust.

"Todd..."

Chloe practically skipped over and intentionally kicked the scarf across the floor.

"Phoebe is so annoying. She knows you absolutely hate cheap, handmade garbage like this."

She covered her mouth and let out a soft laugh. Her tone was dripping with pure malice.

"And I actually heard she knitted the exact same one for her male coworker at the studio."

Todd's face instantly turned dark like a thundercloud.

He didn't hesitate. He snatched the scarf off the floor and violently shoved it deep into the nearest trash can.

"Tell the security guards at the gate, any future packages from Phoebe get thrown directly into the dumpster."

"She disgusts me."

The next morning, Chloe sat in the passenger seat, looking at Todd with her most delicate, innocent expression as he drove.

"Todd, are you really going to repossess Phoebe's design studio? Won't she be really angry?"

Todd's eyes were completely dead.

"Since she wants to play hide-and-seek, I will just destroy everything she cares about."

"Let's see how long she can keep up this tough act."

The car pulled up in front of my studio, the place where I had poured all my blood, sweat, and passion.

Todd leaned back in his leather seat and lit a cigarette.

Several heavy-set bodyguards immediately stormed into the studio. The sickening sound of things being smashed echoed into the street.

I floated in the air, watching coldly as my expensive fabrics were violently torn to shreds.

The workers took the design sketches I had spent countless sleepless nights drawing and threw them directly into the muddy puddles on the street.

Todd sat in his car, quietly watching the absolute destruction through the tinted window.

He smoked his cigarette very slowly.

As he watched the main sign forcefully ripped down from the exterior wall, his gaze darkened slightly.

He remembered the days when we were childhood sweethearts.

Back then, just to spend a few extra minutes with me, he willingly stood in the freezing wind an hour early every single day to wait for me.

He was always eager to be my personal bag carrier, his eyes filled with nothing but pure, unfiltered love.

But now, every single drop of that love had completely evaporated.

He exhaled a long cloud of gray smoke.

"Stop! What the hell are you doing?!"

Oliver rushed forward, completely losing control as he violently shoved the bodyguards who were smashing my equipment.

"Get the hell away! This is Phoebe's life's work!"

He threw himself over a drafting table, desperately shielding a sketch of a wedding dress.

Todd sat in the car. He didn't even bother opening his door.

He just found Oliver's desperate display of devotion incredibly irritating.

"Throw him out."

The bodyguards immediately swarmed forward and grabbed Oliver by his collar.

Oliver clung to that sketch like his life depended on it.

In the chaos, one of the bodyguards delivered a brutal kick directly to Oliver's knee.

Oliver lost his balance and crashed hard down the concrete steps.

He curled up on the pavement in agonizing pain, clutching his arm.

The sketch he had tried so hard to protect drifted onto the ground next to him.

A bodyguard wearing heavy leather boots stepped on it without a second thought.

He ground the sole of his boot deep into the muddy puddle, completely destroying the drawing.

"No..." Oliver gasped out.

That was the surprise I was planning to give Todd for our wedding anniversary.

It was a sketch of a custom wedding dress and suit I had designed specifically for us.

It was a shame he would never know.

Watching Oliver suffer in absolute agony, I felt a crushing wave of guilt.

He was just a kind coworker, yet my toxic mess had dragged him down to this.

Todd finally rolled down his tinted window. His eyes were full of arrogant contempt.

"Is that all it takes to break you?"

Todd flicked his half-smoked cigarette butt directly at Oliver's feet.

"Go back and tell Phoebe, if she thinks hiring her little boy toy to play the victim is going to make me feel sorry for her, she is dead wrong."

Oliver was sweating profusely from the pain. He glared at Todd, grinding his teeth.

"Todd, you are going to rot in hell for this!"

"Rot in hell?" Todd let out a loud, mocking laugh.

He genuinely found the threat hilarious.

"What right do you have to judge me? Phoebe is the one who cheated! She abandoned me first!"

"Tell her if she doesn't drag her ass back home by tomorrow, I am sending bulldozers to level her parents' old house."

As soon as Todd stepped back into his executive office, Chloe walked in carrying a cup of hand-ground coffee.

"Todd, look at Phoebe's social media. It looks like she is on vacation on some tropical island."

She casually slid an iPad across his massive desk.

On the screen was a screenshot of a private social media post.

The location tag was an exotic overseas island.

In the background of the photo, the back of a man was visible, lounging on a beach chair.

The caption read: [Finally free from the chains. My new life is amazing.]

Todd stared intensely at the man's back in the photo.

"She took my money and went off to screw some guy on a beach?"

Chloe gently placed her hand over his and let out a soft, pitying sigh.

"Todd, please don't be mad. Phoebe is probably just confused and getting scammed by some random guy."

"After all, she gave up so much for you in the past. She probably just wants to experience something exciting now."

Every single word out of her mouth was calculated to pour gasoline on Todd's rage.

I floated near the ceiling, staring at the blatantly photoshopped image.

I had permanently deleted that account months ago.

To deepen Todd's hatred for me, Chloe was actually resorting to these pathetic, psychotic tactics.

Todd snatched the receiver off his desk phone.

"Get the Director of Finance in my office! Right now!"

Less than three minutes later, the finance director sprinted into the office, completely out of breath.

"Mr. Waldorf, what do you need?"

Todd leaned back heavily in his leather chair.

"Instantly freeze every single credit card and supplementary account under Phoebe's name."

"And use our corporate override clearance to forcibly sever all cash flow to her private checking account."

The finance director froze, his face turning pale with hesitation.

"Sir, that private account is not registered under the company. Forcibly cutting it off could trigger massive breach of contract lawsuits..."

"I told you to cut it off! Do not give me excuses!"

"If there is fallout, I will handle it! I want to make sure she cannot spend a single cent!"

Terrified, the director nodded frantically and ran out of the office to execute the order.

He had absolutely no idea what freezing that account actually meant.

That account was my final lifeline. It held the money I was using to pay the final installments for my cemetery plot.

Last month, when I was completely bedridden and dying, the hospital constantly pressured me to pay for my incredibly expensive cancer medication.

With trembling, bruised hands, I tried to swipe that exact card. The machine just flashed red: Account Frozen by Primary Holder.

That was Todd's first punishment. He did it to force me to apologize to Chloe.

I spent that entire night rolling on the freezing hospital floor in agonizing pain.

I dug my fingernails into the plaster wall until they bled, but I couldn't even afford to buy a single painkiller.

Now, he was trying to destroy the only peace I had left after death.

Chloe stood by his side, a toxic, triumphant smirk playing on her lips.

She understood Todd perfectly.

All she had to do was poke at his massive ego, and he would completely lose his mind.

"Phoebe, you think you can play games with me? You are way out of your league."

He muttered the words to the empty room.

"When you are starving on the streets with absolutely nothing, we will see how long it takes for you to come begging."

Chloe walked behind his chair and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Todd, please don't waste your energy being angry at someone so worthless. Let's go buy some pretty dresses tonight, okay?"

Todd patted her hand, his tone softening considerably.

"Alright. Whatever you want."

The holiday weekend officially ended.

There was still absolutely no word from me.

Todd's patience completely ran out.

"Mr. Waldorf, the divorce petition is finalized. Once you sign it, Mrs. Waldorf will be forced to leave with absolutely nothing."

Inside the law firm's pristine conference room, the senior partner respectfully slid a thick legal document across the table.

Todd felt his absolute authority was being challenged.

Since I wanted to play a disappearing game, he was going to unilaterally terminate the marriage.

He was suing me for corporate embezzlement, vowing to bury me under a mountain of inescapable debt.

"Factor all the cheap jewelry under her name into the financial damages."

"I want her thrown out of my world without a single penny to her name."

The lawyer nodded aggressively and flipped to the signature page.

Just as the tip of Todd's expensive fountain pen touched the paper.

The heavy glass doors of the conference room were violently pushed open.

Oliver walked in. He looked completely dead inside, hollowed out by grief.

His arm was still in a cast, and he had lost so much weight he looked like a skeleton.

Todd stopped writing. His brow locked in a furious scowl.

"What the hell is security doing? How did this piece of garbage get in here?"

Oliver did not charge forward to throw a punch like last time.

He simply walked up to the table and gently placed a heavy, black-and-white picture frame directly on top of the divorce petition.

Inside the frame, was me.

In the photo, I looked like a walking corpse. My hair had thinned out entirely from the chemo.

My cheeks were sunken deep into my skull, my skin the color of ash.

The eyes that used to look at Todd with absolute devotion were now hollow, staring blankly into nothing.

Todd stared at the black-and-white photo and let out a cold, sharp laugh.

"Oliver, do you honestly think photoshopping a fake memorial portrait is going to scare me?"

"The editing is pathetic. Phoebe could never look this ugly."

He reached out to forcefully push the frame off the table.

Oliver cut him off, his voice dead.

"This is her actual memorial portrait. She doesn't have any family left. I am organizing her funeral tomorrow."

"Before she passed, she told me she never wanted you to see her looking this sick."

"But honestly? I think you deserve to stare at it for the rest of your miserable life."

Todd's hand froze in mid-air.

"Stop lying to my face! Tell her to drag her ass out here and face me!"

Todd roared, completely losing his temper.

Right at that exact second, his cell phone, which was sitting on the table, started vibrating violently.

The screen displayed an official government hotline number.

The voice on the other end echoed loudly through the room.

"Hello, am I speaking to Mr. Todd Waldorf?"

"Speaking." Todd's voice was tight with rage.

"This is the joint hotline for the Department of Civil Affairs and the Municipal Crematorium."

The operator paused for a second before delivering the cold, hard facts.

"The legal holding period for the remains of Ms. Phoebe Waldorf has expired. As a result, the body has been cremated under the protocol for unclaimed deceased persons."

"As her legally registered spouse, you are required to bring your marriage certificate and identification to claim her ashes as soon as possible."

The expensive fountain pen slipped from Todd's fingers and hit the floor.

"Mr. Waldorf, the remains of Ms. Phoebe Waldorf have been cremated under the unclaimed deceased protocol. Please bring your marriage certificate to claim her ashes."